


Tags (Pilot Ep. 1 Season 1)- The Little Worm

by EMR2



Series: Tags [1]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Dr. Toby Curtis, Episode Tag, Episode: s01.e01 Pilot, F/M, Gambling, Gen, Head Cannon, Pre-Relationship, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EMR2/pseuds/EMR2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little head cannon journey for Dr. Toby Curtis after they finish their first job with Homeland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tags (Pilot Ep. 1 Season 1)- The Little Worm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, New to the fandom (over this month I have binge-watched the entire series 3x)  
> Love the show, love the characters and the chemistry of the actors. It goes without saying, hella love Eddie K.T.  
> Oddly enough, I didn't love Dam Break (which makes me weird, I know) I love Quintis and am absolutely voting for them, but this didn't feel organic. (The kiss itself...AMAZING) But then again, that's their whole story right now, so I'm doing a series tag "revisit" of each episode to map out their relationship and make sense for myself. There will be a little bit of Melvester and Waige - and of course, Ralph and Cage, because I'm trying to stick to canon as much as possible. I like to write in character voices, so please let me know if it doesn't sound like the series. I hope you enjoy - it will range from Gen to some smut, but I will follow the story line as much as possible, so probably no smut until later.  
> apologies, I have no patience and therefore no Beta, so there will be loads of typos

Pilot Ep. 1, Season 1 (Tag) - The Little Worm

He knew he was staring and that it was ridiculous. It wasn’t that much money. Once, he’d won and lost more than 10 times the amount in 3 hours. That being said, the $50,000 would certainly be welcome company for the $36 that was currently present in his bank account. But it wasn’t the amount. 

For lack of a better expression it was the largest “honest” paycheck he had ever made. He felt almost the same sense of accomplishment he’d felt when he’d graduated Harvard. He was a professional, he had board certifications to prove it - but this was the first time in a very long time he’d actually felt like Dr. Tobias M. Curtis, M.D. He just wanted to sit and stare at it for a bit. Take it in - absorb it. But he knew that wasn’t gonna happen. The itch was starting. 

It was slowly creeping into his brain, like a particularly hungry little worm - a Spirometra erinaceieuropaei parasite, chewing its way through his frontal lobe, triggering dopamine and nudging his impulse control. That little worm was currently calculating his odds of escaping Walt’s eagle eye and making it out through the door to the Dog Track. He'd been wanting to test out his modeling of the canine mind, and to see if he could accurately predict which dog was in the mood to win and which were just not focusing. Gallo was gone, and getting past Sly would be easy as it always was. 

The only tricky variable was across the room, in her workshop. He looked up across at her and met her concerned gaze. They’d been friends for years, but more and more Happy was becoming his best friend in the house. He’d known Walt longest, but she was the one who seemed to a have a 6th sense, an awareness of him. Anytime he was feeling too much, too close to the edge, somehow Happy would sense it and manage to pull him back.

Not that it was hard, he was easy to distract. Tobias M. Curtis was a sucker for a pretty face and Happy Quinn had one of the most exotic, beautiful faces around. She didn’t capitalize on that beauty, in fact she tried to play it down as much as possible, which was funny because you can’t crush a diamond. 

That particular diamond was frowning now, and striding towards him with purpose. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming, in fact, he’d take 30 to 1 odds that he could predict the next few words out of her mouth. 

“So Doc” she quirked an eyebrow at him. “where to? The Mah Jong tables in Chinatown? The track? Or just the poker tables?” The tone was sarcastic but he knew…KNEW she was concerned. All the facial tics, the body language - it was all there. 

“Why? You want a date” He batted his eyelashes at her, leaning forward. 

“You’re an idiot” She frowned. “You should take a picture of that check.” 

“I know I’ve been staring.” He petted the check affectionately. “Its just that it’s so nice and crisp and professional.” 

“Yeah, well - I suspect it will be gone in about 30 minutes, so you should definitely take a picture - you know - for your Facebook page. ” She said it lightly, only a slight inflection revealing how worried she was. The slam was delicate and precise, like its owner. It hurt, far more than Toby was willing to admit. 

“I’m insulted. With the enemies I've made, how stupid would I have to be to be on social media?” He muttered, maintaining his smile. “And please, at least 45 minutes.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Right - I forgot to factor in your expertise.” She sighed and strode back to her work station. Sylvester looked up from the chalkboard where he’d been working on formulas. He hadn’t missed a word. 

“Well, if its a poker game, and with Toby’s expertise, I calculate it will be approximately 48 hours before the money is gone. However, if its one of the games with more risk and less behavioral impact, such as craps with a 3.2 percent probability that the person throwing the dice is the same…maybe 12 hours.” Sylvester offered up his statistics with an empathetic look. 

“Thanks Sly” Toby grinned. “At least you don’t underestimate my skills!” 

Walter sighed and looked up from his book. 

“Toby - do you want me to hold the check for you? I can arrange an allowance.” He rubbed his forehead in frustration. 

“An allowance” Toby bit back his outrage. Walt might be 20 IQ points higher than he’d ever tested, bur he was still a Doctor and thirteen months older than the arrogant little shit. He also had a problem. He knew it, they knew it, but did they have to make a it a group intervention?  
“I’m good. Thanks Walt.”

“Well, at least pay your rent first, and maybe your electric bill? I’m not sure when our next paycheck will come.” Walt shrugged. Toby felt himself flush. He knew they all cared but - really. 

“I just wanna remind you all, that I’ve been on my own since I was twelve, and I’ve done an alright job.”

“Except for a few broken bones, a couple of almost successful hits and one apartment getting torched.” Walt grabbed his text book and headed upstairs. “Yep. Fine.” He articulated the last word to the last letter, his Irish accent only showing up when he was frustrated.

“Yeah, Doc, you’ve done great” Happy rolled her eyes. Toby hopped up and strode over to her work bench. She spotted him and headed around in the opposite direction but he switched it up to head her off. He wanted to confront her, accuse of her having no faith, but she turned, and her hair fell over her shoulder, a silken ripple of dark curls and he was momentarily distracted by a sudden compulsion to run his fingers through them - a compulsion that would lose him said fingers if he acted on it. 

Which was ridiculous because he loved Amy and Happy was his friend, right? Right? 

“Et Tu Brute?” He chided gently. She sighed in frustration, clearly at the end of her tether. 

“Look Doc, go gambling - don’t go gambling - its up to you. I just wish you would stop hating yourself - for a little while.” She shrugged.

“I don’t hate myself” He protested hotly, but she waved him away.

“Lie all you want, Doc - you can fool the rest of them, but not me.” She picked up a soldering iron from the table. “Just don’t call me for bail money.” She turned back to her work. 

She was lying of course. All the micro-expressions clearly indicated her concern. Something warm bloomed in the vicinity of his heart. She did care.

He would stay if he could. If it wasn’t for that little worm…

He headed for the door. 

“Be safe Doc.” Happy called out as she pulled on her safety glasses. There was a small quaver in her voice that told him how worried she was. Her disappointment almost made him stop. Almost but not quite - and the the little worm was calling..

The END

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Let me know, if you have a minute


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